A Letter
by alcatluvr13
Summary: Petunia is dying, and in desperation for forgiveness, she writes a letter to Harry, Just a little something I was working on this past summer, and never got to posting it. One-shot.


**I do not own Harry Potter. **

To My Dearest Nephew,

I am dying. It's to be expected, given what the doctor had said. He claimed I would have at least a year to settle my affairs. Either he was trying to spare me pain, or he was lying, for I am now bedridden after only 2 months. Still, I can't say I'm not disappointed with how much time I have left. In any case, I had hoped to speak to you in person, but it seems that a letter will have to do.

There are many things I regret in my life. But none of them compare to the way I feel about our treatment of you. I cannot look back on your time with us without feeling anger and disappointment. Not towards you, of course, but towards myself, and my husband.

We were afraid. Of you and what you were capable of. I told Vernon tales of what my sister could do. But, to be fair, I was more jealous than angry. My perfect sister and her perfect husband with their magic powers; it was beyond my comprehension on why she was chosen, and not I.

There was a time when Lily and I were very close. I'm sure it's hard to believe, given my refusal to speak of her whenever you asked.

As the eldest, I should have been a role model of Lily. But instead, I was a vision of malice and jealousy. I wanted to be a witch. I wanted to go to Hogwarts and learn how to brew potions, and fly a broomstick. My heart and head screamed unfairness! Why should Lily, who was my sister and therefore had the same blood as I, be the one selected to become a witch? I was older, smarter, and prettier than she!

Despite our differences, however, I still cared for Lily. I suppose that sounds contradictory, but it's true. I loved her as my sister, and as time went on, I mourned the loss of our relationship. But, truth be told, I didn't know how to mend the bond we once shared. I was scared she would reject me, for I treated her with contempt, and it didn't help that my husband, bless his soul, was as normal as they come.

When Professor Dumbledore left you on our doorstep, I didn't know what to think at first. Vernon wanted to send you to an orphanage right away. But, once I looked in your eyes, I knew I couldn't do that. They were the exact shade of green as Lily's. You obviously had your father's looks, but those eyes!

And when the professor informed me of the death of my sister and her husband in his letter, I cried silent tears of regret. For I had never gathered the courage to write to her, to ask for her forgiveness and beg her for another chance.

As you grew, I could see traits of your mother, my sister. You were good, and kind, despite the ill treatment we bestowed upon you.

I know I have no right to ask you this, but you are my nephew, and I love you just the same as I love Dudley. Perhaps "ask" isn't the right word. I am begging you to forgive me. I don't have much longer to live, and I dare not make the same mistake again. If, however, you cannot find a place in your heart for forgiveness, then I understand. I know I don't deserve it. But I would never forgive myself if I didn't try.

Farewell, nephew. Perhaps we will meet again in Paradise.

Your aunt,  
Petunia

* * *

On Thursday, September 19, 2035, Petunia Dursley died of complications of the heart. She is survived by her son, Dudley Dursley, his wife, Elizabeth, their daughter Lily, and her nephew, Harry Potter. After being admitted to Evergreen Manor, a nursing home in York, she died peacefully, clutching a photograph of her deceased sister, Lily, her brother-in-law, James Potter, and her nephew, Harry as a small infant. Her family is holding a small funeral at Cole Funeral Home. The family requests it be a private event; should anyone wish to pay their respects, please visit her grave after the ceremony.

**Note: Harry is 55 when he receives the letter from his aunt. Unfortunately, I couldn't figure out Petunia's birth date, but I am assuming she's in her 70s or 80s by then. **


End file.
